The City that Forgot How to Breathe
by Monochrome Rabbit
Summary: What does it take to hate all of humanity? To what extent does one need to be hurt and helped up, only to be pushed back down again? When misfortune finally catches up to Izaya Orihara, he finally gets to answer each of these questions, and then some. Even a God can fall. Torture fic, possible character death, heavy angst, maybe Shizaya. Anything is possible; dark fic.
1. Prologue

Summary: What does it take to hate all of humanity? To what extent does one need to be hurt and helped up, only to be pushed back down again? When misfortune finally catches up to Izaya Orihara, he finally gets to answer each of the questions, and then some. Even a God can fall.

Warnings: Possible character death, torture, heavy angst. Really, really deep and messed up stuff here, so read at your own risk. Maybe even Shizaya towards the end. Who knows? Anything can happen.

A/N: This is more of a "pilot" of sorts... If people like the concept enough, I will most certainly continue with it. However, if not enough people like it, I will, in all probability, ditch it. So, make sure you R & R to let me know which you think I should do.

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_The following events have been documented by the remaining researchers of the original study, who fled the grasp of the Japanese government and Ikebukuro police force. These gruesome events dated from April 17th to May 4th, in the year of 2009. The accuracy can be doubted as these remaining individuals were diagnosed with severe mental illnesses (major depression, schizophrenia, panic disorder, and PTSD among the many, along with severe cases of insomnia). However, the depiction of the events of the "Ikebukuro Sleep Experiment", as it is infamously christened, was created through journal entries of these researchers, and leaked through unknown sources until its now publicized released._

_Ketsubetsu Gas: Originally created by Yagiri Pharmaceuticals to keep tired workers awake through their long shifts, the Japanese shut the production of the gas down, as it was deemed too dangerous for the general public. However, private investors gained interest in the gas, and the company, once merged with a larger American one, gained the funds to satisfy its private investigators, and went behind the Japanese government's back as it began experiments on human subjects with the gas. And, of course, these chosen subjects were esteemed criminals running through the streets of Ikebukuro._

_The gas was re-named from its original release, "Kami no Soryūshon__"; "God's Solution". "Ketsubetsu" was chosen as the new name, as "Separation" was deemed a more appropriate term, when one examines the effects of such a gas._

_Today there is evidence found that Ketsubetsu gas has been released in more refined forms, advanced compared to the previously primitive method of simply breathing it in. The methods of which such a gas is now used is said to be in-line with Yagiri Pharmaceuticals' original intent; to create a drug that would improve the performance of Japanese workers by keeping them from feeling the power of exhaustion._

That was what the newspaper said. It was all lies. _All_ of it. The majority of the "esteemed criminals" were everday people, taken from the streets whenever the company and affiliated gangs had the chance. All in an attempt to cover up their target: Izaya Orihara. This was not an "experiment"; it was cruel revenge and abuse- a chance to get back at the previously well-known informant that assisted in shutting down Yagiri Pharmaceuticals and assisted in the end of many well-known gangs to begin with.

_Flea..._ A tough-looking bleach-blonde man growled as he sat inside the makeshift hospital room filled only with the sounds of the slow but constant beeping of the heart monitor, _Why the hell did you always have to piss everyone off?_

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How the heck are you supposed to start an angst fic like this, anyway? I guess I should start with happy stuff like Shizuo trying to rip out Izaya's throat? This entire format will be different, as I am tired of writing in the same format over and over again. Therefore, this will be one huge, twisted story.

Please R & R so I know if this story is worth continuing.


	2. Chapter 1: The Good Old Days

Wow, I guess this story is better than I thought it was...? *cough* Crazy people. *cough* Anyway, I have decided to go ahead and continue this fic (clearly), but I have also decided that I wouldn't make it like any of my other fics, where I try to release chapters on a certain day of the week, each chapter with over 2,000 words. This will be more of my fun free-time activity, so I'll probably just update every few days, but with shorter chapters. (Is that slightly better than 2.5k word-chapters every week? I dunno.)

ANYWAY. The important part is that I have decided to continue, thanks to all of the lovely reviewers that seemed to love this fic so far.

Response to Guest Reviews (Guys, feel free to log in. 3)

Guest (First reviewer?): ailhfealighbreaiul I English good? I glad. I think no I have English skill. Anyway, in all seriousness, thank you for your review. I have always thought of my writing skills as mediocre, so hearing something like, "so beautiful yet dark" (despite not even starting the dark part yet... Muahahaha.) means a lot to me. Unfortunately, most (if not all) of the darkness is saved for future chapters. Seriously, I'm prolonging the happiness for as long as I can before I bring on the angst and horror. I don't even know if I'll have opportunities for comic relief!

Midnight (Second guest reviewer): MEHHH. Scary. I don't think that you want me to continue this fic. Notatall - That is my invented sarcasm font, by the way. Also, I don't normally lick ponies in my free time, but I'm glad that my writing skills can be compared to such. Are they delectable? I would imagine so. And I like the ruining of fun! What would you do? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huuuuhhhhhh~~~~~~? ;D Thanksh you for the review, though. It made me laugh quite a bit~

Phoenix-Sama (Third guest reviewer): First of all, thank you for the review~ I don't know anyone that doesn't like a good angsty read. I mean, what's not to love with blood, gore, hallucinations, death, suicide, and all of that stuff? The answer: Nothing is not to love! As for romance, I am still debating on it. In the past I have cock-blocked any and all possibilities of lemon, so I don't know about any citrus getting into this banana juice (HAH. Get it? God, that was awful), but who knows? I usually have a little bit of a plan for my fics, but for this one, all I know is that it'll take 17 days from the real beginning for everything to go down. As for romance in general, I'm pretty sure that I'm gonna have to add a little in there. I mean, what else would drive Shizuo to sit by Izaya's makeshift hospital bed? Not to mention I ship Shizaya like a boat (HAH. Yet another bad one. I still giggled. At my own joke).

This chapter could be seen as the calm before the storm, of sorts. I'm adding as much happiness as I can before I rip it from your hands and feed it to soul-sucking demons.

Let's get this thing started~

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Chapter 1: The Good Old Days

"Hahaha, Shizu-chan~ You seem like you're just getting slower and slower! I bet you can't catch me~" What sounded like booming explosions followed the pitched voice, and above all of the noise, a second man's deeper, rougher voice followed as obscure cursing and growling echoing through the streets of Ikebukuro.

"I-ZAY-AAAA!" The carnal blonde growled, seizing a bystanding vending machine as he raised it above his head, only to hurl it towards the darting figure in black before him, "stand still for a second, you damn flea!"

"Aww, but Shizu-chan~" The dark-haired smaller man sang as he whirled around, just in time to dodge the flying vending machine and grab three small, glinting switchblades from inside his fur-hooded jacket's pocket, jetting them towards Shizuo Heiwajima, who was in pursuit behind him, "If I did that, this game would be oh so much more boring~~~!"

The ex-bartender simply swatted the soaring switchblades aside, receiving only miniscule paper cut-like injuries on the back of his hand, "Yeah? I'm sure it could get a _whole lot_ more interesting!" he growled, only wishing that he could take the bony informant by the neck and crush his windpipe. _Things would be so much quieter without him around..._ He scoffed, fantasizing about a world absent of Izaya Orihara as he tried to bat the flea across Ikebukuro with the traffic light that he had ripped from the cement.

Suddenly, Izaya halted just before a busy intersection as a truck came barreling across the road, the driver clearly not acknowledging his surroundings. _Tch... Idiot driver_, the black-haired informant mumbled, turning back to see the blonde ex-bartender hot on his trail, _You've made me cut my little game short~_

Shizuo turned the corner to see the rat-eyed man standing just before the entrance to an intersection, smiling widely at him in that idiotic way that only the pest in his life would do.

"The hell are you smiling at, flea?" The blonde growled, his eyes darting to either side of him, just to be sure that there would be no police or random gang members jumping him anytime soon.

The black figure in front of him giggled, as usual catching every detail, including Shizuo's waryness of the situation, "You're right! It is fun to mix it up every once in a while! You're just so paranoid, I can't help but laugh!"

Shizuo growled for the thousandth time that day, thanks to Izaya Orihara. _Screw it..._ he thought as he advanced towards Izaya, _my body can handle a couple of idiots thinking that they can take me. I'll pummel him into the ground no matter what it takes._

Just as he was within arm's reach of the informant, Izaya stepped back into the traffic, gliding over each vehicle with a somewhat inhuman kind of grace, while the enraged man that had been chasing him just watched as the beady red eyes stared into his own, mocking him, daring him to step into the traffic with the informant.

It took all of Shizuo's willpower not to follow the fur fringe into the rush of cars, and the blonde man turned around, punching the wall in anger. _Fucking flea..._ he growled to himself, _I'll get him. And when I finally do, he'll be out of Ikebukuro forever._

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The ex-bartender then removed his fist from the wall, an emerging snarl shown on his face as he walked through the alley, "then I'll finally be able to concentrate."

"Knock knock, Namie," Izaya sighed, annoyed that she didn't already have the door open for him.

"Who is it?" She asked rhetorically, clearly just urging to irritate the informant more so than he already was.

"Who do you think it is? Maybe I should cut your pay in half. You aren't being a very good assistant~" Izaya growled, still keeping his smile plastered on his face.

She unlocked the door, only to see a dirty even slightly beaten-up-looking informant's red eyes staring her down, "Wow, you look way worse than usual. Did Heiwajima finally get the better of you?"

"HAH!" Izaya laughed as he lounged into his apartment, setting the plastic bag in his hands on the kitchen counter as he strolled over to his desk, "he only wishes. The streets were especially dirty today, though. Need to get my jacket washed now," the black-haired man sighed, looking unenthusiastically at his beloved fur-trimmed coat that was now soiled with small rips in the fabric and the dust of Ikebukuro.

Izaya then turned as he heard the sound of Namie's laughter from the kitchen, "he even squashed your fatty tuna?!" she exclaimed after she looked inside what was in the plastic bag that he had dropped in the kitchen, giggling the entire time, "wow, someone really had a bad day!"

The dark-haired informant then turned towards the window, smirking as he imagined the pain he would put his assistant through to make up for her insubordinance, "Yeah, that's right. However, that of course means that it'll be an even worse day for you. Go get me more fatty tuna."

"Ugh!" Namie groaned, regretting her decision to make fun of her boss when he was clearly not in his favorite mood, but unwilling to stop, "what? Are you afraid that you'll be captured and killed by Heiwajima now?"

Izaya glared at her from across the room, "and fix my jacket while you're at it. Once you get back, I have paperwork for you to do. Oh, and be careful around the streets~ I heard that there's some people looking for those related to Izaya Orihara out there. And, as you know, most are aware of your being my assistant~" he sang, throwing his jacket to his now startled assistant, "Oh, and if that jacket isn't fixed by the end of today, you're really going to enjoy tomorrow!"

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Namie closed the door, mumbling begrudgingly as she ambled down the halls, "Why the hell do I still work for him?"

"...And what was he saying about people looking for him?"

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Dew dee dew dee dew~ Feel free to review~

(That rhymed.)

I promise that the angst will eventually be started. Eventually. You're going to miss this by the time this fic halfway through, so don't even complain. Also, yes this chapter could be longer, but think about it: It came out the day after the first one. That makes up for it, right? Riiggghhhttt? No? Okay...


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